


Can't Take the Heat

by SordidFood



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Frottage, Hate Sex, James is kind of a jerk, M/M, Sex as a power play, one sided James/Mike, one sided Mike/Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SordidFood/pseuds/SordidFood
Summary: Ben has never had a bad day at Sorted. Until today.If only James and Mike would stop flirting with each other.





	Can't Take the Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom. I've read everything available and decided that I should add to it.

In Ben’s mind, there is no such thing as a “bad day” at Sorted Food. Of course, there were hard days, stressful days, exhausting days, and even trying days. But bad days? Never. 

That being said, today was certainly tempting fate in trying to gain the first ever title of “bad day.”

The day hadn’t been all bad, necessarily, in fact most of it had been great. They’d shot a food battle involving lemon meringue pies, gone over the shooting schedule for the rest of the week, and arranged a guest for the next podcast. 

The day would’ve been typically Sorted-perfect... if not for the fact Mike and James spent the entire day acting like children. 

They just… they just wouldn’t stop flirting. With  _ each other _ ! 

Ben tries to refocus on restocking the cookware from the day, but his mind continues to circle back to images from the day of a grinning James and an overly-charming Mike being the one responsible for that grin. Ben swallows hard, grimacing at the sour feeling settling in his stomach for the upteenth time that day.

Damn them.

It’s not that Ben isn’t used to Mike’s flirting, everyone in the studio is of course, what’s unusual is James  _ flirting back _ . It began so slowly that Ben hadn’t even noticed. Oh, the YouTube comments section absolutely noticed, with numerous posts of “we ship it!”, but the lads had laughed it off. Lately though, it seemed like James was growing more comfortable with Mike’s affectionate touches, his little winks, and teasing comments. Ben knows Mike doesn’t mean anything by it, of course. He’s just affectionate and charming with all his mates.

And James knows all of this. So why is he so… receptive?

Ben doesn’t like it.

“I’m off,” Jamie calls out and he heads toward the exit. Barry follows close behind, mumbling his goodbye and he slips on his jacket. Ben calls out a goodbye, from between the shelves where they house their considerable collection of cooking equipment. 

“Bye,” James replies to Jamie and Baz, catching Ben off guard. 

“You’re still here, James?” Ben asks, stepping out from between the shelves. James hums in affirmation.

“Just finishing up on something,” he mumbles, tapping on his tablet before turning back to the hob and adding a pinch of a dark spice the the bubbling sauce in front of him.

Ben moves toward the cooking station, observing James. In moments like this, his normal, taciturn nature is present; all of his concentration aimed at preparing the sauce in front of him. Ben wishes he’d been more focused on the food today and not on Mike or more specifically flirting with Mike. 

Not that Mike would ever do anything with James, of course. Mike is straight (at least as much as Ben’s aware. He’s never mentioned fancying men), and he has a serious girlfriend, as well. The guy is just a flirt, a stupid, relentless, annoying flirt.  _ That’s all _ . 

But then why was Mike flirting with James and not him? Ben tries to ignore the warm prickle of jealousy spreading at the back of his mind, shaking it away as if it were a bothersome bee. 

“Can I help you with something?” James asks, glancing up from his sauce.

“Uh, no… no, I was just tidying up the stations for tomorrow,” he stammers, puttering around the prep station, rearranging equipment and utensils. James hums again, moving around the countertop to grab a bowl and a roll of cling film. Ben continues to waste time, fixing things that do not need fixing as James transfers the sauce into the bowl and covers it. 

The studio is quiet, not even the ever-present thump of the stereo system playing in the background. Lou and Ed left over an hour ago. Ben’s not sure when Mike left, but there’s no music wafting down from the editing bay, so he must’ve skipped out earlier as well. He and James are alone.

The silence between them grows, as does Ben’s annoyance with James and Mike’s behavior today. He should have a word with them. He’s in charge here, after all. It’s just the proper course of action for a boss. Ben clears his throat as James slips the covered bowl into the fridge.

“So, James,” he begins, getting James’ attention, “you and Mike certainly had fun today.” James doesn’t look at Ben, offering a slight shrug of his shoulder instead. 

“I’m sure there’ll be a lot of editing to do on the video later.” Ben continues, hoping the other man might press him as to why.

“Perhaps,” James answers, moving back to the prep station to tidy up. Ben is trying to be delicate, but James isn’t taking the bait. 

“You two are quite close,” Ben offers, less a question and more a direct statement, all attempts at subtlety flying out the window. The tactic works, though, as James finally turns his attention to Ben finally.

“Are you jealous, Ben?”James asks and it’s hard to miss the wry tone to James’ voice. Had Ben been prepared for the question, he could’ve brushed it aside with a eye roll, but instead he flounders, mouth gaping a little in surprise. 

James smirks; that’s all the answer he needed. 

“Jealous?!” Ben’s voice almost reaches a Barry-level of squawk and he immediately clears his throat. “Not jealous. It’s just that your behavior is… unprofessional.” James lets out a sarcastic scoff at that. 

“I assumed unprofessional was  _ de rigeur _ here,” he says. “And how on Earth is Mike and I stitching each other up unprofessional?”

“You’re not stitching each other up. You’re…” Ben deliberately avoids the word “flirting”, letting the sentence drift off awkwardly. 

“We’re what, Ben?” James asks, raising a eyebrow. 

“Being overly comfortable,” Ben offers. It’s not the best phrasing, but at least James can’t use it as ammunition for his apparent, non-existent jealousy. He had hoped that laying everything out in the open might shame James into apologizing. James, being a bit younger than the rest of the lads and lower on the pecking order than most of them, usually deferred to Ben on most matters. Ben and Barry are the founders of Sorted and James normally respected the hierarchy.

But normality is lost today, it seems. 

James stops what he was doing, turning to face Ben, hands resting on the counter behind him. 

“And what of it? We’re friends.” He shrugs, and for some reason the gesture infuriates something deep down in Ben. 

“It’s more than friendly.” Ben’s eyes narrow. “It’s like you’re trying to… seduce him.” James huffs a dry laugh. 

“It’s just all in fun, Ben.” He turns away, dropping some rubbish in the bin and grabbing a fresh towel, continuing his clean up. Ben’s eyes continue to follow him, searching for something more he could say, some other admonishment that might put James in his place. Instead, James lifts his gaze toward Ben again, giving him a very piteous look. 

“I understand you have had that crush on Mike since forever-“ 

“That is a bloody lie!” Ben interrupts, now properly upset. It’s true that at one time, many, many years ago, he’d fancied Mike a bit, but over time it had eventually faded to the comfortable friendship they now had. Completely and totally platonic.

“You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried.” James says, his tidying becoming a bit more aggressive that before. “Always ‘ooh Mike what do you think’ and ‘my recipe has what you like, Mike.’ ‘I know your tongue, Mike’” His voice rises an octave with the tease and Ben can feel his face warm in embarrassment. 

“I ask all the staff for their opinions,” Ben counters, “ and I  _ do  _ know Mike’s tongue.”

“Bet you’d like to know it a lot better, yeah?” The snide tone causes Ben to startle. 

“Wha… that is uncalled for, James!” He snaps. James is never so confrontational. Yes, he’s grumpy at times and often exhausted by the nonsense of the other guys, but he never takes it out on anyone so blatantly. 

James slaps the towel down on a cutting block and turns to face Ben once more, arms crossing over his broad chest. 

“Too honest for you?” He says. There’s a look in his eyes that Ben hasn’t often seen in him before: competitive, defiant, smug. “Can’t handle the heat in the kitchen?” Ben considers his non-confrontational nature one of his best assets, but the way James seems to be challenging him and his authority is not something he can cast aside lightly.

“You’re being entirely disrespectful, James,” Ben’s voice is nearly raised to a shout. “What you are implying is entirely a lie, but even if it weren’t, my personal life is my own fucking business and none of yours!” Ben is surprised by the echo of his own voice through the studio. James’ hard expression falters for a moment in shock.

“Well, who I want to flirt with isn’t any of your concern either,” James hisses. Ben is a bit shamed at that; James is correct but… well, he’s still in the wrong!

“It is when it happens at work!” Ben bellows. He’s properly angry now, moving around the counter to face James head-on. “As the head chef here-“

“Oh you just love that fucking title, don’t you?” The words come out as a bitter laugh as James glares up at the ceiling. 

There is it. 

That’s what this is all about. Ben narrows his eyes and takes another step forward. James is almost a full head taller than Ben and outweighs him by at least two stone. Ben hopes whatever this dispute is, it won’t get physical, but he doesn’t let his insecurity show on his face. 

“If you have an issue with my leadership,  _ James- _ “

“And what if I do?”

“Feel free to shove it up your arse,” Ben says coolly. “Otherwise, stop flirting with Mike on fucking camera like a blathering idiot. This is officially a warning” Ben can tell by the flare of James’ nostrils that his words hit their mark. James squares his shoulders as if physically readying himself. 

“What? You want to hit me?... Do it.” Ben doesn’t know where his own brazen attitude is coming from. He’s never been a real fistfight in his life, save for a few playful scuffles in school. James, to his credit, doesn’t make a move, only continues to stare Ben down, unblinking. Ben recalls watching a nature documentary once about the power structure of wolf packs and how when younger or lesser wolves wanted to strengthen their position in the pack, they had to challenge the alpha. 

Ben has never in his life thought of himself as an “alpha” but he can recognizes a challenge of power when he sees it.

The seconds drag by and Ben keeps preparing himself for an impact, but the other man doesn’t act. Ben’s frustration grows; James clearly wants to fight, and Ben has given him the option. What the hell is he waiting for? Ben brings up a fist, but James immediately grabs him by the wrist. Without thinking, he tries the other hand, but James catches that one too. Ben struggles against the hold, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

Damn him.

Ben wracks his brain for his next option- he can’t make a move, but he can’t back down either. 

Casting any sense aside, Ben does the only thing he can think to do- He pushes himself forward, kissing James squarely on the mouth.

James lips are soft and full, his beard brushing against the bare skin of Ben’s chin. He smells of musk and faintly of smoke from the sneaky cigs he takes throughout the day. James stands frozen, still holding his wrists locked in place. Ben is sure he’s about to be violently pushed away, when James lets out a low groan and his lips begin to move. His hold on Ben’s arms goes slack, his hands moving into his hair, gripping the short strands as much as he can and drawing him closer. Ben gasps a little, the movement just enough for James’ tongue to push into his mouth. 

The kiss is aggressive, James’ tongue darting and licking into Ben’s mouth with such force that he can’t get his bearings. He tries to pull back, but James simply pushes forward, nipping at his bottom lip in a punitive manner. Ben tries to take back control, wrapping his hands around the back of James’ neck in order to direct him. James leverages their bodies and flips Ben around so that he’s against the counter, the small of his back digging into the wood. Their bodies press tightly together and Ben can’t ignore the firm feeling of James’ erection against his upper thigh. 

Ben unlocks himself from James’ mouth, pushing the other man back. His breathing is much faster than it should be, and he can feel his pulse thrumming in his ear. James seems just as addled, his rich brown eyes almost entirely blown with lust. Ben watches his adam’s apple bob as he swallows and he has a sudden, unnerving need to run his tongue over it. 

“The fuck, mate?” James hisses, the low rasp completely foreign. Ben blinks awkwardly, his mind scrambling for how to answer. He opens his mouth and shuts it once more. There is no logical course this conversation he can take

So instead he lunges himself at James again, dragging the man down to his level and kissing him once more. 

Ben has kissed a fair number of people in his time, enough where he would call himself “experienced”, but never,  _ ever _ has he ever snogged someone with such… ferocity. It feels more like a fight for control and than anything romantic. They push back and forth, knocking around the workstation and banging into equipment. Ben doesn’t know if he wants to escape this thing or take it a step further. 

James’ mouth slips off his, latching instead to the column of his neck. Ben can’t control the high pitched whine that escapes his mouth and he can feel the vibration of a laugh rising from James’ chest.

“You ass,” he mutters, craning his neck to allow James more room. Ben leans back into the counter, allowing himself a moment to truly enjoy James’ attentions. A hand brushes his own ignored cock and he lets out a soft moan. James lifts his head, studying Ben, before kissing him again. It’s passionate but far less angry than before. Ben reaches up and runs a hand through James’ hair, hoping to properly mess it up. Deft fingers work the fly of Ben’s trousers open and he self-consciously sucks in his stomach as James reaches into his boxer briefs. 

Ben thanks whatever deity may be listening that the studio  _ is  _ empty, because the sound he makes when James’ well-worn hand wraps around his cock echoes into the rafters. James moves at a frustratingly slow pace, only enough to tease but not enough to get Ben any closer to the edge. 

“James,” Ben whines as a calloused thumb runs over the tip of his dick, sliding precum down the sides. James only responds by alternating his grip between firmer and looser, driving Ben even more mad. He fidgets and whines until he can’t take it, reaching between their bodies to free James’ dick. 

James’ cock is unsurprising large, considering his size, but Ben doesn't have time to think about it as he takes both his and James’ erections in hand. As soon as James realizes what he is doing, all bets are off and the fury from earlier returns. James fist wraps around Ben’s as they jerk their cocks together. James’ eyes are squeezed closed, his forehead pressed to Ben’s. Their gasps and grunts mingle along with the heat of their breathing. Ben doesn’t know when they gave up on trying to mutually get off, instead each taking control of the other’s dick, racing to get to climax. 

As battles usually go, James loses, Ben notices wryly. He comes with a muffled groan, jizz coating Ben’s fingers. Ben doesn’t have time to enjoy his victory, though, as James seems to increase his attentions, moving at a vicious pace to finish him off. 

“C’mon, Ben,” he mutters in Ben’s ear. “Fucking come for me.” Ben has never been one for dirty talk, but something about the low growl in James’ voice tips him straight over the edge and he comes with a cry. 

James pulls away even before Ben has fully recovered, snagging a tea towel from the counter to clean himself up. Ben awkwardly wipes James’s spunk off on his chef’s jacket before tucking himself back into his trousers. Whatever angry or frustrated energy had existed in the room not ten minutes ago was completely zapped. James occupies himself with his previous tasks, wholly ignoring him. Ben watches him work, trying the gather his thoughts enough to say… what? Something reassuring? Affable?  _ “Thanks for the wank, mate. I enjoyed myself. Shall we do that again?”  _ Just the thought of repeating this scenario causes Ben’s stomach to cramp with anxiety.

“I’ll, uh, just finish this up tomorrow,” James mumbles, gesturing vaguely to the set up on the counter. He doesn’t meet Ben’s eyes as he speaks and Ben can see a flush of embarrassment creeping up his long, pale neck.

Ben’s traitorous cock gives a feeble twitch. 

“We’re, uh… We’re okay, right mate?” James looks up, dark eyes vacant of the heat and confidence that had been there only a few minutes before. This time, it’s Ben who looks away, mortified, giving a stiff nod.

“Yes, yes, we’re all right.” The words sound like a lie to his own ears, but James seems to accept them. He mumbles a quick goodbye as he grabs his coat and laptop bag, slipping them on as he heads toward the stairs 

Ben waits until the echoes of James’ footfalls fade before moving. He glances around the workstation, still in a state of disarray. He could tidy up himself and save James the trouble but… 

Ben shakes his head. James said he would tomorrow and Ben trusts he will. Ben notices a soiled tea towel near one of the hobs, balled up and forgotten. Ben takes it, pocketing the evidence of their transgression, before going to get his own coat.

* * *

High above in the editing bay, Mike sits frozen, hand pressed to his mouth for fear that he’d make any noise. His current video-edit completely forgotten, he stares unfocused into the middle distance, the shock of what he just witnessed, or more accurately listened to, still sinking in.

Ben and James had been talking, and then they’d been arguing and Mike, never one to miss out on a bit of gossip, just slipped his headphones off to listen. 

And then he heard his name. 

And the the fight sounded more serious. 

And then they...

Mike thinks he could have gone his entire life without know what Ben Ebbrell sounded like at the moment of orgasm. And when on earth did James turn into Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Bloody Hyde?!

A level below, Mike listens to Ben puttering around the studio, his loafers making a soft scuff against the wood floors. Silently, he pleads that Ben would just leave. Mike really needs to pee and he doesn’t want to deal with any awkward conversations at 9 pm on a Tuesday after a full day of shooting and editing.

Especially not with a post-coital Ben Ebbrell.

Especially not when when Mike was an unexpected, probably unwanted, voyeur to said coitus. 

Ben finally leaves, the sound of his footsteps bouncing off the concrete walls of the stairwell. Mike lets out a shaky breath, letting his head fall into his hands with a groan. He scrubs a hand through his hair, nails scratching into his scalp.

He  _ really _ needs to stop flirting. 

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that James is kind of ooc here, but I loved the idea of him and Ben hate-fucking in the studio. I'm not even sure if I really ship these two, but I had loads of fun writing this.


End file.
